reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
That much they can agree upon, that cold rain was absolutely not the preference of the two Ancients clinging to one another for warmth. Astaroth had only known rain upon leaving Whitebrim’s boundaries, and had then decided that he would rather take the snow over the cold wet droplets any day.
Feeling Danta shift to look at him, he opens his eyes in the dimmed light, so much more relaxed than he had been all day, even with the easy banter of planting the seed that he’s pretty sure is drowning in pools of water. Ah well. It’s a fleeting thought when the Maverick’s voice reaches him and he sighs, lips parting to complain when Danta makes his point. He’s right, but it still isn’t easy to swallow.
“No, we do not.” He agrees eventually in a weary tone, heaving a sigh as he shifts to follow Danta up, twisted to rest his head on the Maverick’s shoulder as his arms loop around his middle, peering down at the tray of food that looks like it may not have even been touched. Reaching for the nightstand, he snags his glass and sets it on the tray in the Maverick’s lap, figuring they might as well share the glass. “I haven’t found the time.” He says after too long of a moment has passed, like it’s still on his mind.
He still doesn’t reach for the food, not for the way his nose brushes up against Danta’s pulse before he pulls away slightly.
Feeling Danta shift to look at him, he opens his eyes in the dimmed light, so much more relaxed than he had been all day, even with the easy banter of planting the seed that he’s pretty sure is drowning in pools of water. Ah well. It’s a fleeting thought when the Maverick’s voice reaches him and he sighs, lips parting to complain when Danta makes his point. He’s right, but it still isn’t easy to swallow.
“No, we do not.” He agrees eventually in a weary tone, heaving a sigh as he shifts to follow Danta up, twisted to rest his head on the Maverick’s shoulder as his arms loop around his middle, peering down at the tray of food that looks like it may not have even been touched. Reaching for the nightstand, he snags his glass and sets it on the tray in the Maverick’s lap, figuring they might as well share the glass. “I haven’t found the time.” He says after too long of a moment has passed, like it’s still on his mind.
He still doesn’t reach for the food, not for the way his nose brushes up against Danta’s pulse before he pulls away slightly.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
